They staked out Victor’s compound, using two family members at a time as a precaution. By the end of the third day, Victor made an appearance on Nash’s watch.
Touching the tanzanite and platinum ring his father had designed specially for him, Nash sent a telepathic signal to Alastair.
“He’s here.”
“I’ll inform the others.”
Twenty minutes later, their sink-hole-production team was in place under the umbrella of Granny Thorne’s invisibility spell. It consisted of Nash, Alastair, GiGi, Ryker, Knox, Autumn, and Spring. Ryanne was to torch the entire compound as the others collapsed the buildings and opened the earth to consume them. In theory, they would expand their circle of magic to surround the estate, with the witches spread out evenly around the perimeter. They all now had some form of charmed tanzanite jewelry to boost communication.
“Ryanne, because you are the most inexperienced witch, I’d prefer you stay out of harm’s way. If anything goes wrong, teleport back to Thorne Manor without delay.” Nash and Ryanne had worked on her skill set when they weren’t monitoring Salinger’s activities. She had good control of basic abilities, but she was a novice. Nash wouldn’t put her at risk, despite her desire to “fry Victor’s ass” as she so eloquently put it.
She lifted her chin, and a steely light entered her dark eyes. “I’m here until the end. I won’t be satisfied until I see his eyes closed in permanent sleep.”
She was never more beautiful than when she was being stubborn. Yet, Nash’s insides were a ball of nerves. He hated to think what could happen to her. There had been enough close calls in his family over the last year and a half. All those involved had grown up with magic. They knew the ins and outs of utilizing their power for their personal protection. Ryanne was nothing more than a babe in the woods. Her first instinct would be to react as a human and not a magical entity.
“You’re killing me, you know that?” he complained not so good-naturedly.
She surprised him when she grinned and pressed a firm kiss to his mouth. “Yeah, I get that. But in this, you can’t control everything, Nash. I need to be a part of this. I need to be able to verify for myself that he is gone. He, or one of his ilk, was responsible for the deaths of everyone I’ve ever loved, with the exception of you.”
Her response was understandable. Nash didn’t like it, but she was also an adult and had to make her own choices. “Stay close to me, okay?”
“I promise.”
Once they were all in position, Alastair led the group in a protection spell. He created a boundary around the property’s perimeter—a circle within a circle—a four-feet-deep band allowing the witches room to move, but repelling anyone else from crossing through to escape the coming destruction.
Through their tanzanite connection, he instructed the metal elementals, Ryker and Knox, to begin the teardown of the buildings. Knox removed screws and brackets while Ryker removed nails and other fastenings. When they were done, they started on the Rebar supports. Nash and Spring were up next. They manipulated the limestone, slowly chipping away at it to create channels underground, as Alastair drew every drop of moisture from the earth beneath the buildings. Autumn conjured a five-feet-high wall of fire to encircle the estate, just on the far side of the security fence. GiGi produced the wind to feed the flames and direct them toward the structures.
Shouts went up in warning, and people crowded in the courtyard and parking area. From his location, Nash could see Victor Salinger stroll out of the main doors as if he had all day and the fire quickly consuming the grassy area of his compound was of no consequence.
The moment Nash saw him, he started a low-rolling earthquake. He derived satisfaction from watching Salinger stagger and scramble to remain upright.
Through the telepathic connection, he said, “Now, Spring.”
Together, they encouraged the earth to collapse, and Mother Nature complied. The building at the centermost of the clustered structures went down in a pile of rubble and dust. Screams of terror echoed in the early morning air as the rumble of earth became louder and the land beneath their feet opened.
Victor remained calm amongst the chaos, leisurely scanning the tree line around the property.
“Are any of you seeing this? Why is Victor not reacting?” he asked the others.
“It’s concerning,” Alastair replied.
“It gives me the heebie-jeebies,” Ryanne murmured from beside Nash.
He couldn’t agree more. Of course Victor would know it was the Thornes. Who else would attack his compound? But to act as if this was an everyday occurrence and no big deal was, as Alastair said, concerning.
Suddenly, Victor smiled and raised his arm to circle in the air above him. The sound of military-style weapons being shouldered exploded throughout the woods surrounding them.
“Teleport now, Ryanne. Right fucking now! Achoo!”
“I can’t!” she cried.
“Blockers!” Alastair stated grimly through their connection. “Everyone get as low to the ground as you can and stay where you are.”
“Nash Thorne!” Victor called out. “I can tell by the appearance of raccoons that you’re on my property. Step forward with the necklace, and I won’t kill whoever else you have hidden with you.”
“If other witches were present, why didn’t they block the fire and earthquakes?” Ryanne wanted to know.
Nash felt as if he’d been poleaxed. “Why is a darned good question.”
“Could it be that you’re too powerful as a group?” she asked.
“Dad?”
It didn’t take long for Alastair to answer. “I think Victor’s bluffing. I don’t know why Ryanne couldn’t teleport, but if Blockers were present, we would have met with resistance. I’m going to step out from the shield.”
Ryker’s response was immediate. “Not a chance! If he’s not bluffing, he’ll gun you down for sport.”
“How about we take a page from GiGi’s book and levitate like she did in the clearing when she confronted Harold Beecham?” Knox asked. “For the record, I had no idea that was even a thing.”
“That gives me an idea.” Alastair slowly spun in a circle, surveying the lay of the land. “Everyone, come toward me.”
“Mr. Thorne, I won’t ask again,” Victor shouted.
“No, son,” Alastair responded. “Don’t listen to him. Bring Ryanne here. We’ll get her to safety.”
Staying low in case the gunmen opened fire, Nash ushered Ryanne to Alastair. They all squatted in a small cluster. “What now?”
“Join hands,” Alastair instructed. When they had all complied, he said, “Now, lie belly down on the ground. You three, send a shockwave in Victor’s direction, and the rest of you send a shockwave toward the trees.” He locked eyes with Ryanne. “In the clearing, Serqet stated you had the power to destroy all of us. If unleashed, do you have the confidence in yourself to control that power?”
“What do you mean?” She cast an anxious glance Nash’s way.
“Stand here, child. Put your arms up, palms facing Victor. Good.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I am going to add to your ability with my own, but I need you to concentrate. Your magic could hurt me when it ignites. Don’t look anywhere but at your intended target. Feel your cells heat and shove that energy toward your palms. Visualize it turning Salinger into fried bacon.”
“Got it!”
As Victor opened his mouth to give the order to fire, Ryanne blasted him with all she had. It tore through their cloaking shield, exposing them all. Into the action, she poured all her grief for her birth parents, for the Joneses, and for Rylee. The apprehension she felt regarding the control of her magic was small in comparison to the revenge driving her. She intended to blast that bastard back to hell.
As the soldiers shifted to take aim, Nash, GiGi, and Ryker combined their efforts and buckled the earth separating them from Victor’s mercenaries. The trees toppled outward, taking down the men who hadn’t initially lost their footing to the small quake.
Spring, Knox, and Autumn copied the maneuver.
“Bury the bloody compound,” Alastair barked. “Now!”
The Thornes joined hands and executed their initial plan. The employees of Victor who had survived their first attack ran toward the ring of fire Autumn had initially created, choosing what they must’ve felt was the lesser of two evils. GiGi sent hurricane-force winds in their direction and made it impossible for Victor’s panicked minions to go anywhere but back the way they’d come.
“Ryanne, you can stop now, child.”
But she couldn’t. A sob tore from her throat for all she’d lost. Rylee’s death was the freshest and grated the worst. Pointless even. The whim of a man seeking revenge.
Strong, warm arms wrapped around her.
Nash.
In slow increments, she felt her anger dissolve. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she understood Nash was taking her pain, helping her to get a grip and control herself once more. Embarrassed by her lack of control, she averted her eyes from his family. It was only then that she noticed his burns.
“Ohmygod! Nash!” Instinctively, she reached for him.
His harsh, indrawn breath made her snatch her hands back. Blisters formed along the smoother skin on the underside of his forearms where he’d touched her body. She’d done that! She wanted to weep due to the excruciating pain she’d caused him.
“Oh, Nash! I’m so very sorry. Tell me how to heal this?”
GiGi stepped close, careful not to touch her, but offering her comfort. “You can’t, dear. Please step aside. My brother and I will take care of Nash.”
“I didn’t mean to. I swear,” Ryanne babbled.
“I know, babe,” Nash assured her through gritted teeth. “I know.”
She had the feeling he did, but her remorse for what she’d done to him weighed heavily upon her.
GiGi stood next to Nash’s right arm as Alastair positioned himself at his left. By silent agreement, they transferred healing energy from their bared palms to the skin on Nash’s forearms, running it up one side and down the other in an attempt to cool and restore his burnt, abused flesh to normal.
Because Ryanne couldn’t face what she’d done to him, she pivoted away to stare at the destruction she’d wrought to the compound. One figure lay balled up on the only parcel of land untouched by the Thornes.
Victor Salinger.
Since the fence was long gone, Ryanne walked slowly toward the man who had brought so much misery to her world. Staring down at his blackened remains, she was hit by exhaustion. Fatigue so deep, it nestled into her bones. Then came the numbness. In the span of two days, she’d morphed into a completely different person. Gone was any innocence or remaining illusions she’d had of her childhood. Of unhealthy past relationships. Like an onion, the layers had been peeled back, revealing a severely dysfunctional family at its core. No wonder she’d shied away from romantic involvement. The pain was too great a risk to take.
As Ryanne continued to gaze dispassionately down at Victor, Autumn approached.
“You okay?”
“Far from it,” she managed past the lump in her throat. “I murdered a man.”
“No. You rid the world of one evil twatwaffle, Ryanne. Don’t lose a single night’s sleep over it.”
“I burned Nash,” she whispered.
“Not on purpose.”
“But I still hurt him.”
Autumn sighed and shifted to stand in front of her. “Listen, he knew the risk he was taking when he touched you. Your skin took on a scarlet glow, Ryanne. Like a molten-lava chick. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Ryanne lifted her gaze to meet Autumn’s steady, non-condemning eyes.
“It wasn’t your fault, and he’s going to be fine.”
“You don’t know that!” Ryanne cried in her fear. “What happens if we argue and I accidentally lose control again?”
“Why would you argue?”
“Have you met the man?”
Ryanne was thrown by Autumn’s laughter. She couldn’t find a single thing funny about the situation.
Finally, the other woman calmed enough to say, “If you’re wise enough to worry, you're wise enough to control your temper moving forward. If all else fails and you’re truly that concerned, have my uncle bind your powers again.” Autumn shrugged and patted her shoulder. “Nash loves you. You love him. Everything else can be worked through.”
Ryanne looked back at Nash. As she watched, he kissed his aunt’s cheek and said something to make her laugh. Relief and a whole lot of angst filled her for causing him such horrific pain. Maybe she should have Alastair bind her powers. Did she dare take the risk of hurting anyone ever again?
Suddenly it was all too much. Her throat felt as if it were tightening, and her breathing became labored. She had to escape. Had to get away from Nash, his family, and the death around her. Without any thought other than a mental image of her apartment’s interior, Ryanne fired up her cells to teleport home.
She realized her mistake the moment she arrived in her living room. Death was still with her in the form of her sister’s ghost. Although Alastair’s men had retrieved the body for burial sometime within the last two days, Ryanne could still imagine Rylee lying on the bed, eyes closed in permanent slumber.
Sinking to her knees, she gave in to the grief and sobbed. She was so tired. So raw and disillusioned with life. Five days ago, everything had seemed exciting and new. She’d been about to explore a relationship with Nash after being more than half in love with him for nearly two years. She’d just discovered she had magical abilities. At the time, it was cool. The idea of conjuring food and moving between places with just a simple thought was sublime. Now, she’d give it all back for the blissful ignorance.
The skin on the back of her neck prickled, and the air grew heavy. This was the sign she was beginning to associate with an incoming witch. Ryanne lifted her head just as Nash arrived.
As he stared at her, his expression thoughtful, Ryanne wanted nothing more than to jump up and run to him. She couldn’t. She was completely depleted. The new problem remained. Dare she stick around and take the chance she might cause irreparable damage to him?
“Go home, Nash,” she ordered tiredly.
“Can we at least discuss this?”
“What’s to discuss? I’m a ticking time bomb. I fried your ass without even trying,” she cried raggedly.
“Nah, just my arms.” He gave a half-grin that never failed to wake the butterflies in her belly. Lifting his arms, he rotated them back and forth to show the undamaged skin. “I’m all better. Not even a red mark. Swear.”
“You don’t get it.” Frustrated, she rose and crossed to the kitchen for a glass of water to ease the dryness in her throat.
“Then explain it to me.”
Ryanne gulped down three-quarters of the glass before she answered. “You were in agony, Nash. I saw your face. What if your aunt and father hadn’t been there after it happened? I wouldn’t have known how to heal you.”
He crossed to where she stood and rested those sinewy forearms on the counter, then he bent forward to meet her eyes on the same level. “You wouldn’t have needed to heal me, babe. A simple call to my father or aunt would bring them running.”
“Yeah, because I have their numbers memorized and you would be able to simply dial them with charred fingertips,” she retorted.
“Ryanne, how upset are you right now on a scale of one to ten?”
The question threw her. She wasn’t sure how to answer, so she remained silent.
He raised a dark blond brow and waited.
“I don’t know. Pretty damned upset,” she finally said.
“Are you going nuclear now? Or are you having a discussion like a reasonable adult?”
She glanced down. No glowing, no fire, not even a warming of the glass in her hand.
Nash moved to her side of the counter and wrapped his arms around her middle, just as he had done to pull her back from going nuclear. She flinched at the contact.
“See?” He said softly, his cheek pressed to hers. “Even upset and angry, you’re controlling yourself. You wouldn’t knowingly hurt me.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” she croaked. “But what about the times when I can’t control myself, Nash? I can’t risk hurting you or anyone.”
“We will work each day, and you’ll get stronger. You’ll learn how to manipulate your magic so this never happens again.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.” He turned her to face him, and lifted her chin. “You can.”
She closed her eyes against the sting of tears. Her nasal passages burned, and she knew she was about to cry the big ugly for a second time.
“It’s okay, babe. I promise you. It’s okay.”
“I don’t want to hurt you again. I couldn’t bear it.”
“I doubt you’ll ever be as enraged as you were when you served Victor up his Karmic spoon of medicine.” He settled a soft kiss on her lips. “But if you ever do get to that point again, you’ll have tricks to cool down. I guarantee it.”
“What if we get married and have children? What type of power would they have? What if they walked around setting things alight or burning people?”
“I don’t have all the answers right now, Ryanne. At some point, you’re going to have to take a leap of faith.”
“Will you just go? Please?”
He stepped back, and Ryanne felt the loss of his touch keenly. Her soul felt colder without him close. She almost changed her mind then and there. With a simple nod, he was gone.
Ryanne closed her eyes and let the tears come.